


It's The Thought That Counts

by Angstqueen



Category: NCIS
Genre: Gift Fic, M/M, Romance, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-29 20:56:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/691352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angstqueen/pseuds/Angstqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How do our boys celebrate their first Valentine's Day as lovers? Their own way, of course!</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's The Thought That Counts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thehappyfangirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehappyfangirl/gifts).



> This is for T, who wanted a domestic fic. I hope this fits! Happy birthday, hon.
> 
> BIG thanks to my lady for helping with the idea. *hugs and smooches*

 

"So what are you guys doing for Valentine's Day, Gibbs?" Abby asked, taking a large sip of her Caf-Pow.

 

Gibbs rolled his eyes. Abby's fascination with his and Tony's relationship hadn't waned even after ten months. He kept details private and knew Tony only gave her hints here and there. She still tried to get one of them to give her more intimate details.

 

"Haven't decided yet, Abs," he said, kissing her on the cheek before heading for the door.

 

"That's so not romantic, Gibbs!" she yelled after him.

 

~**~      ~**~      ~**~

 

Gibbs sipped his coffee as he took the elevator back to the bullpen. He hadn't really celebrated Valentine's Day to any degree since Shannon. Oh he'd bought each of the ex-wives flowers and taken them to dinner, but that hadn't required any thought or deep consideration on his part. And by the second year of most of his subsequent marriages, Valentine's Day had been a non-issue. 

 

This year was different. Being with Tony was different. He wanted the other man to know he mattered, that he was loved and desired. He wanted to get it right, but what the hell was right for a guy for Valentine's Day?

 

The rest of the day passed quietly, giving him to consider his options. By the time he sent the rest of the team home, he knew what he wanted to do for his lover. Valentine's Day was Thursday, today was Tuesday. He could only hope he had enough time.

 

~**~      ~**~      ~**~

 

Tony sniffed appreciatively. The lasagna he'd just put together smelled fantastic, making his mouth water. He checked his 'to-do' list. He'd stop on the way home on Thursday and pick up the makings of a good mixed salad and a loaf of French bread for the garlic toast. Sure it would be easier to buy the pre-made frozen stuff but it didn't as good in his opinion, and this meal had to be perfect. He had the perfect red wine in his possession already.

 

His parents had never observed Valentine's Day and he had only celebrated one with Wendy and years later, with Jeanne. He wasn't even sure Jethro would want to acknowledge the day in any way, but it was important to Tony. He wanted his lover to know he took their relationship seriously, that he was in this for the long haul.

 

He had decided to do as much prep as he could at his own apartment. Thursday he had arranged for Abby to distract Gibbs after their shift so Tony could get to the house and have the meal ready when Jethro got home. He hadn't asked how she planned to do that, he trusted she would find a way. She had been thrilled to find out her two favorite guys had become romantically involved and when he had approached her for help in distracting her silver fox she had been ecstatic, calling it her own undercover op.

 

~**~      ~**~      ~**~

 

Jethro growled in frustration as he finally left the Navy Yard. It was almost 7:00 and he had planned to be home by 6:00 so he shower and change before Tony came over. He had asked the younger man to meet him at the house at 7:00 so he could give Tony the tickets and tell him about their Saturday night reservations at the Rooftop Grill at the Adams House. He hadn't wanted to try for Valentine's night, knowing the restaurant would likely have been booked by the time the idea came to him, and also concerned about the possibility of a case keeping them on the clock. They weren't on-call this weekend, thankfully.

 

Tony had offered to cook but Jethro had declined, telling him he would stop and pick up Indian food on the way. Since it was something they both liked and it meant neither of them had to cook, Tony had agreed.

 

Now, however, Jethro didn't have time to stop and pick something up. He knew he could fix something from his fridge, but it wasn't going to be very fitting for Valentine's Day.

 

 _Way to go, Marine,_ he chastised himself.  _That's another one you've screwed up for a lover._

 

He pulled into his driveway at 7:01, grimacing when he saw Tony's car already parked out front. The other man would have heard him pull in. No sense delaying.

 

Time to face the music.

 

~**~      ~**~      ~**~

 

"Dammit!" Tony grabbed an oven mitt and pulled the smoking tray of now-inedible garlic toast from the oven and dumped it in the sink.  He knew he had set the oven for the right temperature, he had checked when putting the lasagna in and also when he'd put in the bread. So how the hell…  He groaned when he looked at the knob on the front of the range. He must have knocked it when he'd been grabbing stuff for the salad and never noticed. Damn Jethro's outdated range!

 

That meant the lasagna was probably burned as well. Hanging his head in defeat, Tony donned the mitt again and pulled the pan out to inspect it. The top layer was blackened, but the layers underneath looked okay. He had leftover meat sauce and cheese. With luck, he could patch it up and Jethro would never know. Quickly turning down the temperature, he opened the fridge and reached for the bowl containing the meat sauce. Then he swore colorfully, remembering he had left it in his refrigerator at the apartment.

 

Wait… was that…  No, he couldn't be so lucky, could he? On the bottom shelf in the back was a small jar of Prego meat sauce. It wasn't up to his standard but it would do in a pinch. He reached in to pull it out and miscalculated, bumping the glass serving bowl he'd used for the salad. He tried to catch it but only succeeded in dumping it on the floor.

 

Tony slumped on the floor, defeated. If this was how the night was going to go, he might as well give up now. Closing his eyes, he rested against the open fridge for a few seconds.

 

 _C'mon, Anthony,_ he scolded himself. _You're no wimp! Okay a few things have gone wrong, but isn't Jethro worth this, and more? You can still pull this off!  You know he doesn't really like salad much anyway._

 

Giving a mental nod to his inner voice, Tony swept up the salad remains and dumped them in the trash. Surprisingly, some remained in the bowl. He had made plenty because he enjoyed salad with his lasagna, and knew he'd have enough left over to mix with some grilled chicken for his dinner tomorrow night. If he could just find two smaller bowls he'd be fine.

 

He had to deal with the lasagna first since it would have to heat to melt the cheese on top. He quickly spread the sauce and pulled out some cheese he'd seen earlier. With that dealt with, he located two small salad bowls and divided what was left, coving them with plastic wrap and putting them back in the fridge.

 

He set the table without trouble, heaving a sigh of relief when that went without a hitch. He'd debated over candles but felt that might have been too over the top for two guys. The ivory tablecloth and china said this was a special occasion but not necessarily formal. The china and glasses had been an engagement gift from his cousin Pete. After Wendy had left Tony at the altar Pete had suggested he take the china to the shooting range and use it for target practice. He hadn't but nearly half the set had ended up hurled at the walls and floor of his apartment before he'd sobered enough to knock it off before someone called the police. The set had never been used, but Tony had decided maybe it was time to associate positive memories instead. After all, they were just dishes.

 

The timer buzzed for the lasagna and he pulled it out and set it on a rack on the table, re-setting the timer to let it sit for ten minutes. Last but not least he found Jethro's corkscrew. Inserting it into the cork, he pulled and groaned as the cork broke.

 

"Argh!" he yelled, fighting the temptation to just throw the bottle at the wall. "Could this day go any worse?!"

 

He froze as strong arms wrapped around him, quickly relieving him of the wine bottle by putting it on the nearby counter before pulling him back a step. Tony relaxed as his lover nuzzled his neck and nipped at his earlobe.

 

"You didn't have to do all this, Tone," Gibbs murmured. 

 

"Wanted to make the day special."  Tony turned to face Jethro, his expression a mix of sadness and frustration. "All I did was make a mess, it seems."

 

"Hey, I don't care if the lasagna is rubbery and the wine tastes like vinegar," the older man assured. "Love that you did all this for me. No one—"  Gibbs cut himself off, not wanting to bring up the past at a time he should be celebrating the present and future.

 

Tony kissed him thoroughly, amazed as always by the man's rarely seen patience.  "Happy Valentine's Day, Jethro."

 

"Mmmm."  Gibbs leaned in again for a kiss of his own. "To you, too. Got something for you."  Pulling out the gift cards, he handed them over. Suddenly feeling awkward, he said, "Thought we could go see that new Bruce Willis movie. The Die Hard one. And I booked us a table at the Rooftop Grill on Saturday--   Mhmpf."

 

He never got to finish as he was pulled into a hug that threatened to crush his ribs. And just when he thought he could safely breathe again, Tony kissed him again, this time apparently in search of his tonsils.

 

When they finally pulled apart, Jethro couldn't help grinning. He had apparently d0one it right, for once.

 

"How hungry are you?" Tony asked, looking meaningfully at the stairs.

 

"Oh, I'm very hungry," his lover assured. "But I don't see what I want on the table."

 

Taking his hand, Tony walked towards the stairs.  "I think if you'll follow me, I can find a way to satisfy your appetite, sir."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
